SEALed Protection (Bone Frog Brotherhood Book 5)

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SEALed Protection (Bone Frog Brotherhood Book 5) Page 5

by Sharon Hamilton


  At first he wanted to be so careful with her, undulating inside, watching her face and asking over and over if it hurt. The third time he asked, she giggled, stopping him.

  “I already told you, I’m fine. I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to think of anything else, understand?”

  “You only have to tell me once, babe.”

  His enormous hands kneaded her flesh, his kisses turned her insides molten. He answered back her demand by changing positions frequently. His new question became, “You like that baby?” as he flipped her over and took her from behind. “What about this,” he whispered into her ear.

  She was left wet, gasping for air, wondering how in the world she’d ever be able to stand three weeks without him. Her last whisper to him was, “Mission accomplished.”

  He left on a Tuesday, early in the morning. She noted he’d packed light this time, which she took as a good sign, meaning he wasn’t taking any heavy firepower.

  The sun was barely making it over the mountains to the east, and the area was bathed in a pink glow. The visions of their lovemaking last night was weakening her knees. They’d made love in the shadows, quietly whispering things she couldn’t remember. It was more like an intense, goodbye kiss, a way to leave things on a positive note and wipe out the cobwebs of worry. It was something she’d learned how to do, to pretend that their life together would never end, while being realistic in the knowledge that he might not return.

  She always expected a perfect outcome but prepared for the worst.

  With Kimberly still fast asleep, she walked with him out to his Hummer in her nightgown, barefoot. The early mornings were her favorite in the garden. The plants had started to expand, and some of the seeds she’d planted in the flower garden had begun to send up shoots.

  He hugged her from behind while they both looked at the Tucker’s handiwork.

  “Enjoy your days out here, Brandy. I’m going to be thinking about you taking care of this little piece of heaven.”

  She turned in his arms and placed her palms up to his neck, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him while he gave her a firm squeeze. “You pay attention and come home to me, Tucker. I know you will, but I still want you to promise.”

  He held her hand at his heart. “I promise, sweetheart. Nothing will keep me from coming back to you both. Nothing.”

  He climbed up into the cab, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway, giving her a quick wave and a smile. She watched him, waving back until he disappeared behind the neighbor’s hedge. And then she waited until she could no longer hear the motor.

  If she had to choose, she’d rather have him home with her. She’d sacrifice anything except Kimberly to have him stay. But watering and tending Tucker’s garden was going to help her get through it.

  Until they could do it together again.

  Chapter 7

  Tucker was glad to find Sven Tolar waiting for him at the Gando Airport on Gran Canaria. The former Norwegian special forces guy greeted the Team as they entered the hangar serving as their temporary Team building.

  The metal building would be a good staging area for a quick exit, should that be needed. It also enabled them to receive supplies, including required firepower and devices, which could be subtly unloaded in small shipping containers and stored for later pickup.

  A small tourist hotel that had been evacuated was to serve as their eventual living quarters once they left the safety of the airport region.

  “My friend, how are you? I hear your little girl is beautiful!” Sven boomed as he gave Tucker a big hug.

  “That’s on a strictly need-to-know basis. You didn’t get out there this summer. You owe me a visit.”

  Sven nodded and greeted the rest of the platoon as they filed in.

  “Lt. Commander Andrew Gibson. Nice to finally meet you, Sven,” said Gibson as he extended his hand.

  “Good to be here.”

  Tucker introduced him to Lieutenant Jack Gridley. “He’s just joined us fresh off his honeymoon.”

  Sven shook the Lieutenant’s hand vigorously and then commented, “Then you’re a dangerous man, sir. You won’t mind if I keep my distance?”

  “Not at all,” Gridley said with a wide smile.

  Tucker liked their new officer and although it was his first deployment with their Team, thought he was a good decision-maker. He’d been a cop before he went to the Academy, and then became a SEAL, so he’d seen another form of combat that gave him some experience Tucker knew he could trust. They’d spent some time on the flight over getting acquainted. Normally, the two officers would be deferring to Chief Lansdowne, with his experience, though they outranked him. This time, part of that might fall to Tucker. Kyle was setting him up for a promotion and had told him so.

  Light smoke still hung in the area, and the number of small-to-medium-sized planes had nearly quadrupled. Helicopters and light planes buzzed all around them. Sven noticed Tucker’s focus.

  “Way different than before, right?”

  “I can see how easy it would be to have things slip by.” Tucker knew the appearance of order was an illusion.

  “They brought in more than three hundred extra controllers and airport personnel from Madrid just to handle the extra load. They already have one disaster on their hands. No sense creating another one—something like a mid-air collision or worse.”

  Tucker helped stack boxes of equipment they’d brought. The men were all assigned to a corner of the building where two dozen cots were set up, along with a makeshift mess and two bathrooms. A small trailer Tucker recognized as portable shower rooms had been brought in. Sven selected a cot next to Tucker’s. T.J. was on the other side of him.

  He stashed his duty bag under the cot, sat, and accepted the bottled water and sandwiches being passed out to all the men. His first bite signaled that he was long past due for a meal, and his stomach churned. But the hard roll containing a meat and cheese mixture was still delicious, and he’d devoured it in four bites.

  “You stay in touch with Kelly?” Tucker asked Sven, cleaning his palate with water. Kelly Fielding was their State Department Special Agent liaison, as well as being the sister-in-law of the American nurse they’d rescued.

  “She never returned any of my calls or emails. I’m giving her some time. You guys get together with Riley at all?”

  Tucker imagined the two palm trees planted in his front yard. “At the hospital up in Redding, and then he sent us a housewarming gift. But no, we’ve not been in touch.”

  He decided not to say anything about Riley’s offer to work with him again. He suspected perhaps the old man had made a similar offer to Sven. That left him with a question he was dying to ask.

  “Is he a part of this one?”

  Sven shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, did you take a look at that bucket of bolts you flew in on? Even your naval transport planes are better than that thing. He’d have never sent you on a Spanish charter.”

  That confirmed what Tucker had been told by the two officers.

  “Well, perhaps after this caper, you’d be due for a visit in Portland. I imagine Kelly’d like to see you.”

  Sven shrugged. “She’ll reach out if and when she’s ready. I don’t chase women anymore.”

  Lt. Commander Gibson called a meeting, instructing them to stay comfortable. Most everyone stayed seated on their cots, readying themselves for an early turn in.

  Gibson held a pile of papers in his left hand and started to pass them out.

  “I need you to memorize all the faces and names on this sheet and take a picture of them on your cell phones, because we can’t take these out of the building. I’ve got six targets identified who, as of two days ago, were still on the island. A number of them work at the Capri night club in Las Palmas. It’s nothing special, a dance club and bar. It caters to foreign tourists. The rest of them are listed by last known address, or work affiliation, or neighborhood.”

  �
�Holy shit, we got a General Two Fingers here!” said Fredo.

  Everyone looked down at the smooth-shaven black man with dreads, bearing a medal of some kind over his left breast pocket. All the other pictures except one looked like a rogue’s gallery from some casting call in Nigeria, of mixed races and varying degrees of tooth possession.

  One guy was crisply dressed in a white linen suit and had red hair and horn-rimmed glasses. Tucker read his name, Jens Vandershoot. His last known whereabouts was the Tradewinds Hotel in downtown Las Palmas.

  Tucker and T.J. shared a look. T.J. rolled his eyes and mumbled great.

  “There’s also Red Arrow Employment, which they’ve been watching closely now for nearly a year. It’s a domestic help employment service, specializing in placing nannies and domestic temporary workers with wealthy, mostly European families vacationing or with temporary residency here.”

  Calvin Cooper raised his hand. “Sir, operationally, how do you want us to do this?”

  Gibson looked at Tucker. “I think you can split up into teams, just coordinate and share. No, we absolutely don’t want the whole Team to descend on the dance bar or one location, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Are we allowed to dance?” asked Lucas.

  “You can’t dance, so the answer is no. And I sure as hell don’t want to listen to you Karaoke, either,” shouted Alex.

  The Team erupted in laughter again.

  Sven stood up. “Coop, most of you were here before. With everything going on, I don’t think we’d attract too much attention if we stayed in groups of two or three. Is that what you mean, Commander?”

  “More than likely, we’ll find other areas to look for these guys once we start the visual,” added Gibson.

  Someone asked, “So are we limited to just these on the list? What if we find someone else we know’s involved in the human trafficking?”

  “That’s a good point,” answered Gibson. “For now, these are the only ones we’re cleared to mess with, per our instructions from State. But you know what can happen. So let me be clear. You don’t fuck with anyone else and then find out we’ve made a mistake, okay? We’re on borrowed and very limited time. If everything blows up, we’ll have completely destroyed our mission and the valuable intel assets State has in place. We play nice. Tough but nice.”

  Gibson went over other logistical items, and then the meeting was adjourned. As the group broke up, T.J. turned to Tucker.

  “I’ve always been told I play nice, right, Tucker?” He followed it up with a smirk.

  “My favorite way to be,” he answered.

  Fredo and Coop had joined their circle.

  “Is it my imagination, or is every mission now more complicated than the last one? More rules, with just as much danger, but so many ways things could go all wrong,” said T.J.

  “The nature of the evil we fight is adapting and changing,” added Coop.

  Everyone nodded full agreement.

  “When I was active, we always said we were working with the other units, but unless we were working with you Americans, we pretty much ran the show,” said Sven.

  Tucker didn’t like the level of negativity being expressed. “Well, it’s what we’re trained for—to do the impossible so no one even knows we were there. War is changing, gents. The enemy is mobile and doesn’t look like a soldier anymore. He could be a businessman, a truck driver, a clerk, or storekeeper. He speaks more languages than we’ll ever know, and he moves in and out of multiple countries. He doesn’t play by the rules, but we have to.”

  “Well said, Tucker,” Coop whispered. “We use our experience and instincts, and we keep the information close.”

  “Roger that,” several others responded.

  Tucker approached Lt. Commander Gibson. “I forgot to ask in the group if we could call home. I’m assuming there’s enough static out there that it would be okay. But can we get through?”

  “You’d be right. Not sure about the connection, but I do have a sat phone, if you need it. But not outside this building, and I’m not sure if the metal will interfere, but go ahead and try and then let me know. I’ll announce it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tucker dialed Brandy and did get her voicemail so left a brief message that they’d arrived and he was headed for bed. He warned her about what she already knew—that his calls would be infrequent and not to worry. And of course, he told her he missed her and the baby more than he wanted to think about.

  He waited for a shower, got all the traveling sweat off his body so he could concentrate on some restorative sleep, turned on his small book light, and added to his journal.

  Wondering what the hell I’m doing here with a beautiful wife and baby at home who need me. Not complaining, but boy is it different now coming here as a father. One saving grace is that I know somebody’s kids are being trafficked, and if I can do anything to help stop it, I’m going to. We have a tight window and parameters, but the mission is clear, and we’re not here to fight or blow shit up. Not saying it couldn’t happen.

  The island is crawling with ants from every country. At least from the air, that’s the way it looks. I’ll know more tomorrow.

  Like any long travel, I’m anxious to get out and move my body around. I can’t run or swim in the ocean to get rid of the jitters, so I’m hoping we get to do a lot of walking, trying to be invisible.

  Glad I brought my good sunglasses.

  I’m kissing you right now, honey. It’s kinda tight, but you’re gonna share my cot tonight and help remind me of my real purpose in life until we can do the real thing.

  You never answered my question about how many. Was it two, three, or four? From where I sit, any one of those answers would be good. Hell, even ten would be fine. As long as some day they help me in and out of my wheelchair!

  Tucker thought of Mr. Riley in his squeaky machine. He was rich, and he was disabled. And probably cut off from most of the world except for people or experiences he could buy. But he still lost his son and nearly lost his daughter.

  That wasn’t going to happen to the Hudson family. It had nothing to do with money, either. He wondered if Riley felt he controlled his empire or if it was the other way around.

  A part of him felt sorry for the man.

  Chapter 8

  Brandy got Tucker’s message when she came home from her first outing with Kimberly. It had been a simple store run, but she brought way too many things for the baby. In the end, she realized she’d get much better streamlining and preparing in advance for these trips.

  It warmed her heart to know he’d gotten to the Canary Island destination.

  Christy Lansdowne, Kyle’s wife, called to tell her the ladies on the Team had arranged to bring her hot dishes, or salads. Someone would be stopping by each day until she called a halt to it.

  “The way I hear it goes, people get their refrigerators so full a lot of it goes out in the trash, but at least you don’t have to do anything.”

  “Thanks, Christy. I ventured out myself this morning. I have to get much better at this before I’ll do it again.”

  “Wise decision. Let us take care of you a little.”

  Brandy was grateful for the help.

  She’d gotten into the routine of watering the garden with Kimberly strapped to her tummy, if she was awake. The two of them had meaningful one-way conversations. She explained what they’d planted and what she was doing, every single step.

  Tucker had left the name and phone number of his former Teammate who had the teenage daughters. Although they’d failed to get together with the family before he left, she decided she’d initiate a meeting. At her last checkup, her pediatrician told both of them it would be safe to bring Kimberly out in public.

  She set up a visit, stressing it would be a very short visit and not a dinner, the next day, in the afternoon, when the girls would be home from school.

  The Tanner’s home was in a newer area but farther from the bea
ch and downtown traffic. Geri was at the front door before she could ring the bell.

  “Oh, look at her! She’s such a beautiful baby, Brandy. And she’s huge.”

  Brandy wondered how she managed to keep her trim figure after having four kids, but Geri was nearly model skinny. Inside, the girls were seated on the living room couch, all in a row. She nodded to each of them.

  “Bryce isn’t home—got something he had to do at the base, so I’m not sure he’ll make it, unless I can convince you to stay for dinner.”

  “I better not, Geri. Thanks, though.”

  Brandy nestled down on the couch between the four girls. The youngest one moved in front and kept to her knees, peeling back the blanket to inspect Kimberly’ fingers and toes.

  “You want to hold her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Keira, go wash your hands first,” commanded her mother.

  The six-year-old ran to the kitchen and scrubbed her hands and arms to her elbow. That prompted one of her sisters to do the same. The two oldest girls snickered.

  “Make room for your sister,” Brandy softly requested. The girls parted and the little one sat beside her, while Brandy handed Kimberly over. “There you go.”

  The youngster’s eyes became wide as she looked at her mother. “This is so cool,” she whispered.

  Geri laughed, clasping her hands together. “I’ve got to take a picture of this!” She ran out of the room in search of her cell.

  The oldest girl produced a phone she’d been sitting on and snapped a picture. Geri returned and took pictures of the whole group of them together.

  Brandy fielded questions for several minutes, but when the baby began to wiggle and then cry, little Keira immediately passed her off.

  “She’s just hungry, that’s all,” Brandy explained.

  Geri added, “And she probably knows the difference between someone else and her mother. Babies are very smart.”

  “I want to hold her,” said Shelby.

  Brandy bounced Kimberly gingerly, hoping she’d calm down, but lay her in Shelby’s arms anyway. “She’s not going to last long, so don’t feel bad. She’s really waking up now.”

 

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